


Doubt Thou the Stars are Fire

by Miss_ro



Category: Sanditon (TV 2019), Sanditon - Jane Austen
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Fix-It, Love Confessions, Marriage Proposal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-16
Updated: 2019-10-16
Packaged: 2020-12-17 11:02:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21053315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_ro/pseuds/Miss_ro
Summary: I found that I was so distressed by the ending of ITV’s Sanditon, I simply had to venture into the fandom not my own and exorcise some demons.





	Doubt Thou the Stars are Fire

She had kept her emotions in check until the coach started to move, ponderously, out of the gate. Following the initial startled outburst, witnessed only by Sidney, she had managed to present a cool facade to everyone in Sanditon. It was daily work – to be able to keep a straight face when speaking with him, and with her, and to set aside her own hurt to wish Esther happy at her wedding, and to mean it. At night, burying her face in her pillow, she allowed the hold to slip, and the tears to flow freely.

The Parkers thought – or, Charlotte thought with newly-acquired cynicism, pretended to think – that she had borne Sidney’s rejection of her in stride; or pretended not to know that there had been an earlier understanding at all. But here, she generally stopped herself: had there been an earlier understanding? He had kissed her on a cliff above the sea, and had spoken words of devotion to her in a darkened parlor – what she would not give not to have them running daily through her head, I am my best self, my truest self, when I am with you -- but he had never proposed to her. He had intended to do so, he had told her. But intention did not an understanding make, she thought bitterly. When it came to that, he had weighed his feeling for her – her poor heart, which he knew, he had to know he possessed – against cleaning up his brother’s mess yet again – and had found her wanting.

Georgiana was the one person who seemed to understand what had happened – and what was happening to Charlotte with her every waking moment. As they were walking sedately by the edge of the water – far cry from their earlier shoeless frolicking in the waves – she squeezed Charlotte’s arm and said:

“I am dreadfully sorry, you know.”

“Mmmm.” Charlotte looked away, not finding herself equal to a discussion on the subject. “You did try to warn me.”

“I did not – I did not know what I was warning you against. I was full of spite and anger against him, but – I had not thought, truly, that he would throw you over.”

“He did not throw me over. Not really. We never had an understanding.”

Georgiana rolled her eyes, but said nothing to it.

“Will you tell me, now, what transpired in Antigua?”

“Nothing,” Georgiana said, clearly annoyed, kicking at a large pebble on the sand. “My father handed me over to Sidney for the guardianship before he died. I had no desire to leave Antigua – but now that I think of it, Father must have thought well enough of him to give him control both over his only daughter and all of his money, and Sidney has never abused his trust.” She sighed. “I am sorry. I know that this is no help at all.” She sniffed. “I can tell you that after they are married, I promise to be perfectly horrid to her.”

“Oh, no,” Charlotte protested. “Please do not. You will only make your own life more difficult. Something tells me that the future Mrs. Parker will give back in spades.”

“I am not afraid of her,” Georgiana said petulantly. “I never thought him good enough for you, but my dear, if he is going to throw you over for the likes of her –“

“Promise that you will write,” Charlotte said, squeezing her friend’s hand.

“I do not see why you need to leave in the first place.”

“Do you not?”

“I suppose,” Georgiana agreed. “It makes me angry that they – that she –is driving you from here.”

“Nothing can be done about it, my dear friend. I will miss our talks dreadfully – but I have longed to be gone from here this age. I do not think my heart will begin to mend itself until I can no longer hear the sea.”

Two days hence, and Charlotte was saying her good-byes to Tom, and Mary, and the children. She had been terrified that he would come, too, but he had stayed away, and she felt a mixture of gratitude and disappointment. She hugged them all in turn, burying the bitterness deep inside. They had welcomed her in their home; it was not their fault that in the end their interests had been so divergent from hers. But, she knew, despite anything she said to them now, she would never return to their surfside little town.

Tom had sent his carriage to ferry her to Willenden, sparing her the stagecoach. She was thankful for it, although she would have preferred to take nothing more from any of the Parkers. Enough, she thought. As the carriage rumbled out of town and took the toll road North, Charlotte leaned her face against the back of the seat and closed her eyes.

She was greatly startled at the coachman’s exclamation, the neighing of the horses, the whole equipage pulling to a sudden stop. Owlish, she poked her head out of the carriage window.  
Her heart dropped. Sidney had dismounted and was walking towards the carriage. Before she knew what she was doing, Charlotte, too, had pushed the door open and slipped out. For a moment, they regarded each other in silence; then, both spoke at the same time, their words tumbling. Both cut themselves off.

“What is the meaning of this?” she whispered, looking anywhere but his face. He was wringing his gloves in one hand. “What do you want of me?”

“I could not let you go without speaking with you one more time,” he said hoarsely. 

Then, he fell silent, and Charlotte feared, for a moment, that he had chased her down to say good-bye. To beg forgiveness without meaning to change their situation. To lighten his own heart while burdening hers all the more. She had had the consolation of thinking that he was kind – now, if he had stopped her carriage merely to toy with her – she would not even have that.

But he said: “Will you walk with me, Miss Heywood?”

The formal appellation struck like a whip. She cringed inwardly. “To what purpose, sir?” she asked. “My family is awaiting me at home. I am eager to be in their company.” To be away from you.

He dipped his head. “Please. Humour me.”

“Why do you suppose I should be inclined to humour you?” she held up her chin. But she strode away from him, and away from the carriage, knowing that he would follow.  
After a few minutes’ walk, they came to the edge of a cliff – and she thought, oh no. The place where they stood reminded her far too much of the spot where he had kissed her several weeks ago. How different the world was now with all the light drained from it. She felt that she had aged ten years in these weeks.

“What do you want?” she asked, and winced at her own rudeness.

“You,” he said quietly, breathlessly. And, as she stood, speechless before him, the wind whipping her unbound hair, he continued, quickly: “Charlotte, I have made a dreadful mistake. I am so sorry. I – “ Here, he reached for her hands, and she shrunk from him.

“Sir, pray, desist,” she said, feeling her tears gather all anew. “You are an engaged gentleman. It is not a done thing to speak to me that way.” How dare he toy with her heart like that.  
In her agony, she stepped back and, losing her footing on a crumbling rock, nearly tumbled over the cliff. A split second of terrifying weightlessness, the look of shock and horror on Sidney’s face; in the next moment, his hand grasping her arm and yanking her back towards him. Here, she did stumble, but fell forward instead of backwards, landing with a thump against his chest.

“My God,” he kept saying. “My God, Charlotte.” But, instead of righting her on her feet, he kept her pressed against his heart. Knowing just how wrong it was, she could not, nonetheless, push away from him; in part because her knees were still trembling with shock – and in part, because she simply could not bear to; the beat of his heart, the sensation of his body so near magnetic to her. 

“You are engaged,” she whispered, miserably. “You are engaged to another.”

“Oh Charlotte,” he said into her ear. “But I am not. I have broken with Eliza.”

Here, she did push away from him in shock, looking up at him; the sun was in her face, and she could not quite read his features, or his expression.

“Pardon?” she asked.

“I am so sorry,” Sidney said earnestly. “I am so sorry. I have made such a muddle of things.”  
“What do you mean – broken with her?”

“I decided it was not fair to anyone – that kind of marriage. Eliza asked me whether I loved her – and I could not bring myself to lie to her. So I told her the truth – that my heart was still, and likely to remain, forever yours.” He smiled a little wistfully. “So I suppose it was she who has broken with me, in truth.”

Charlotte was now more unsteady on her feet than ever before. “What of your brother – what of Sanditon – the money?” 

“I went to speak with Lady Denham and to beg her forbearance. She will grant it – long enough for me to find the needed number of investors. With one proviso.”

“What kind of proviso?”

“That I run things, and not Tom.” He sighed. “I do not suppose I can blame her.” His voice, his gaze turning tender, he said: “Charlotte. I am so sorry. I should have done this first. I should never have proposed to Eliza – it was ever a devil’s bargain.”

“My god,” she whispered, shaking her head. “You are not engaged?”

“I am not,” he replied. “For the moment, at least.” Here, he claimed her hand and squeezed it, tightly, in both of his. “Charlotte, my love, will you ever forgive me?”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “You have broken my heart, Sidney,” she said, but did not take her hand away. “Absolutely shattered it.”

He hung his head in clear shame. “I have been a fool – a clumsy fool. You had given me something precious, and I have been careless with it.”

“You have.” Charlotte sniffed. For a moment, they said nothing. Charlotte closed her eyes against the sea breeze, feeling it ruffle her hair, feeling his fingers, his warm palm against hers.

“Will you not look at me?” he asked quietly. She did, reading so much compunction, so much unhappiness in his dear face, her heart was pierced all over again. “I know that I do not deserve your trust,” he said. “I have done nothing to earn it – and much to lose it.” He exhaled, interlacing their fingers. “But if you were so kind – so very kind – as to place it in me one – more – time—“ Here, as if unable to help himself, he dropped his face against hers and pressed their lips together, desperately. Charlotte gasped against his mouth, thinking that she was angry with him, furious with him, that she did not wish to give in, that he was brazen and presumptuous to kiss her thus after everything that had transpired …. She ought to push him away. Yet, somehow, she was conscious of her fingers grasping Sidney’s lapels to pull him closer, of her lips parting underneath his as he deepened the kiss. Tearing himself away, he pressed his forehead against hers, his arms tight about her. “Please, Charlotte,” he begged. “Please.”

She still said nothing, and so he pulled away ever further and dropped to his knees. Even now, she could not help admiring his fluid grace. “Please,” he said, looking up at her, his visage pained. “Charlotte. I am begging. You are the love of my life. You will make me the happiest man in the world if you consent to be my wife.”

The wind rose, whipping her hair about and ruffling his. When she had least expected – when she had given up all hope of it – her life had changed once again. Charlotte reached over and placed her hand against the side of Sidney’s face, and he closed his eyes and rubbed his cheek against her palm. He had possessed and humbled her heart; and now here he was, penitent, hers alone, and somehow this felt even more humbling.

“Mr. Parker,” she said quietly. “I must go home now, to my father’s – my family is expecting me.” She watched his face fall a little, his shoulders set. “But perhaps you can come along on that great horse of yours and apply to my father for my hand. If you are so inclined, that is.”

Here, he laughed, the grin turning his face young and heart-stoppingly handsome, and took her hands in his and pressed kisses to her palms and fingers, again and again.  
“Whatever you want,” he said, pressing her hand against his cheek. “Whatever you want, my love.”


End file.
